


Shoddy Masonry

by Kate_ReadsALot



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - The Dark Crystal Fusion, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 21:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_ReadsALot/pseuds/Kate_ReadsALot
Summary: Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, scion of the great line of Durin and the newest King Under the Mountain, thought it was ironic that he should have survived the journey to Erebor (not a lazy afternoon stroll), imprisonment in Mirkwood (blasted weed-eaters), the second encounter with the dragon (alright, that was mostly Billa), and the Battle of Five Armies (OW - DAMMIT OIN), only to be done in by a dodgy knee and a crumbling railing.





	Shoddy Masonry

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. Here's my first fanfic on this site. It's only been sitting on my drive for two...ish? Years? Un-beta'd, 'cause I'm crazy like that. Thanks for reading!

Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, scion of the great line of Durin and the newest King Under the Mountain, thought it was ironic that he should have survived the journey to Erebor (not a lazy afternoon stroll), imprisonment in Mirkwood (blasted weed-eaters), the second encounter with the dragon (alright, that was mostly Billa), and the Battle of Five Armies (OW - DAMMIT OIN), only to be done in by a dodgy knee and a crumbling railing.

At least, that’s what he would think about it all after the fact. In the moment, watching his company’s horrified faces swiftly disappear from view as he tumbled arse-over-tea-kettle into the dark depths of Erebor, all he could think was-  
-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck fuck fuck FUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK(!)

*****

Billa Baggins had torn her ever-present brown cloak off her shoulders the instant she realized Dwalin wasn’t going to get a hand on Thorin in time to stop him from falling. Her secrets no longer mattered in the face of Thorin’s imminent death, not when she was the only one with the means to save him. The fact that she had previously done the same damn thing on the battlefield (not that Thorin remembered or anyone else had even noticed) only made it easier.

Without a single care to what the others would think, Billa dove off the walkway after the King to a great chorus of cries from the Company, wings tucked tight to her body as she arrowed into the darkness.

The few seconds it took to catch up to Thorin felt like an age – Billa was sure they would be dashed on the rocks before she had a chance to so much as slow them down – but finally, Billa managed to snag the edge of Thorin’s old blue coat. She pulled herself flush against his back, wrapping her arms and legs securely around him, and let her wings flare.

The dwarf grunted as their free-fall stopped with a _jerk_ and nearly slipped from Billa’s grasp when he tried to turn and see her.

“Stop that! Do you want me to drop you?” she scolded.

“Billa?” he asked, utterly flabbergasted as to why he wasn’t a splatter on the rocks. “How-?”

“Let me put us down first,” Billa said. “Then you can yell to your heart’s content.”

She wasn’t really sure if the noise he made was a huff of shocked laughter or a whimper. Maybe both.

It was only another moment of gentle gliding before Billa set them down on the cavern floor. Here, uneven ground and loose stone made footing difficult, hence why Thorin folded into a boneless heap as soon as Billa let him go. At least, that was what he would later claim. Billa would remember how he stared blankly up at the walkway, barely visible in the dim light so far above them, chest heaving with emotion, and allow the king his pride.

Billa knelt next to him, reaching out a hand but not quite touching his arm. “Thorin? Are you alright?”

His eyes turned to her, skimming briefly over her face before landing on her wings, which were currently in a half-tuck along her back, the tips dragging in the dirt. Billa resisted the urge to shake them out – she hadn’t had a chance to stretch them properly in some time and they were uncomfortably tight despite the workout they’d just had.

“You have wings,” he said, his breathing calming. His gaze traced along their curve, taking in the thin tan membrane that was tougher than it looked stretched between long fingers of hollow bone and tendon that flexed without her conscious control. No Hobbit ever revealed their wings to a non-Hobbit, ever. As far as Billa knew, she was the first to break that injunction. But for one such as Thorin – he had earned her trust countless times over during their quest, and she’d just saved his life – perhaps it wouldn’t be the disaster her people had always imagined.

“I have wings,” she replied plainly.

He was silent for a long moment, during which she could faintly hear the commotion above. Billa would worry about the Company’s reaction later – Thorin’s was the most immediate, and the most important.

Thorin snorted. “So that’s how you survived the fall in the goblin tunnels.”

Billa smiled with cautious relief. “Yes. Were you wracking your brain trying to explain it to yourself?”

“Certainly not. But Dwalin will be much relieved to have an answer.”

That surprised a giggle from her. “Of course. I’d hate to cause him any concern. Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

Thorin heaved himself to his feet, Billa keeping a precautionary hand at his elbow until he was steady. Once they were face-to-face, Thorin placed his hands on her shoulders and levelled her with a serious look. Inwardly, Billa braced.

“So this is why you wouldn’t accept my suit?”

She winced, remembering their argument just before the last night in Thranduil’s palace. “Yes. I wanted to tell you. I had just about worked myself up to it when I discovered the barrels. After that, there just didn’t seem to be an opportunity. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Thank you.”

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

He grinned at her confused expression, cupping her face in his hands. “Thank you for saving my life. Again.” Thorin pressed a kiss to her forehead, then to each cheek. He started to pull back, but Billa grabbed a braid in each hand and pulled him back down to her, their lips meeting in a comfortable kiss, smiling against each other’s mouths.

Finally, Billa released Thorin’s hair and they drew back. Thorin tucked his hobbit under one arm and sighed.

“I suppose we should find a way out of here,” he said.

“Yes, and somehow convince our friends that this never happened,” Billa replied. “It doesn’t do much for your image.”

“Ugh, Dwalin is going to be insufferable.”

Billa laughed. “You could always point out that _he_ doesn’t have a Hobbit to catch him should his King tip him over a railing.”

Thorin’s laugh echoed all around them as they picked their way through the rocks. “As if you’d let any of us fall.”

“True. But he doesn’t know that.”

They walked in silence for several moments. Billa could practically hear Thorin’s mind turning.

“You know,” he began, “I saw your gardener that night I arrived at your door. _He_ did not have wings.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Billa said, bemused. “He’s a boy.”

Honestly. Boys with wings? That was just asking for trouble.

Thorin pondered this for a minute, even opened his mouth as if to argue, but then just shook his head. “Later,” he said. “You can tell me all about it later. For now, we have more pressing concerns.”

“Oh?” Billa asked.

“Yes. There’s still the matter of my courting you.”

“Oh. Oh, yes,” Billa said faintly. Oh dear.

END


End file.
